Burnt Apple Pie Life
by NekoAiHime
Summary: Hunters did not have happy endings, especially not the Winchester brothers. They fought for their lives constantly, fought for their beliefs, a constant battle. White picket fences, apple pie life; they were but a dream, a hazy dream coated with lust and danger; a supernatural adventure, a place to belong. But things always go wrong. Adult situations and Gore. Dedicated to Chibi.


This one is for Chibi, a Dean roleplayer I wrote with long ago. I recently found out that she had passed on years back, and we never got to finish the journey we set out. So this entire fanfiction will be dedicated to you, our precious children as they were, as they should have been. I will keep writing this until the story is complete, because you deserve to know and read everything that we have planned out years ago. I know you are in a better place now and you will no longer be suffering.

This take spins from after Season 7, after Purgatory. Pray let me do justice to what we had done. I will try to incorporate the following seasons into this, but do note that a great portion of it was written before Season 8 was released.

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 _"Upon my shoulders I carry, a burden unseen to many. The life of a hunter is ever and forever more, a life of solitary and loneliness. When will we ever live our life for our own? The answer is simple. Never."_

He gagged upon a clump of rotting leaves, spitting out the foul mixture of forest matter that had somehow made its way into open mouth - just moments ago yelling a warning to his brother as the duo charged their way into the witch's lair, guns at the ready. Dean was not sure if it had been the intention, or a fluke of luck that had sent him to where he unceremoniously landed; though he was almost too sure that the witch had been meaning to off him instead, judging by the disappointment that marred her features before he was flung into what he presumed was another area. He really hated witches, and he hated them with a burning passion. Those New Age 'witches' were nothing of concern when they dealt with actual real deal witches with the ancient power and connection with foul demons; the body fluid using, all around unpleasant witches that he so very much hated.

Leaping to his feet, he spared a quick glance to his surroundings, ensuring that he was in no immediate danger before he brushed himself off, fishing in jeans for his mobile phone...unfortunately busted. Figures. Brows knitted as he swore under his breath, he pocketed the broken pieces of his phone and sought a way back into civilization, worrying that Sam would have difficulties offing the witch without his presence, or in the event that the other Winchester had finished off the animal bones wielding witch, a brother beside himself with worry due to the disappearance of a Dean Winchester. He had no time to linger, and made haste towards a possible direction with whatever else had come along for the impromptu trip.

The night was hardly young; a dim moon hanging low in the sky while the silent night was only broken by the sole vehicle making its way down the highway. A peaceful drive for a brunette crossing the country - though weariness weighed heavily upon eyelids. Eyes were slowly reddening yet foot remained upon pedal, gassing a reckless speed in an attempt to reach the next town before she completely dozed off. The roads were empty and she had solitude on her side; perhaps she could take a break for the moment, rest her fatigued form before an accident occurred. There were options to be had, only it was a choice she had to make. Cheery music filled the vehicle, her feeble endeavor of singing along to keep mind alert and awake for the few miles more. She wanted to reach her destination, take a bath and sleep in an actual bed, of which the bath was _much_ needed.

She was coated in blood after all.

A road. Road often came with cars, some more than the others but still, there was always a chance of coming across a car as one made their way along a road. However, it was the driver that made interaction possible. Some were cautious, unsure of strangers, speeding up and passing as quickly as possible, but there were of course the opposite, friendly souls who would stop and offer assistance. He was no damsel in distress, but he could sure as hell try to hitch a ride into the nearest town, or at least give Sam a call to ensure that all went well.

The corners of his lips finally turned upwards into a tired but grateful smile as he broke through the thick greenery, stumbling out of the forest into what he quickly determined to be a highway, it was no interstate but it was no gravel or dirt road either. That was a good sign. Thankful that he bore no obvious bloodstains or massive wounds, Dean shot his attire a quick glance of approval - he did not seem a threat in his well loved blue jeans, almost plain old shirt ( Led Zeppelin for the win ), typical plaid button down ( unbuttoned of course ). The shotgun however, along with the small duffel of weapons assortment against a witch, he left leaning against a tree as he made his way to the mile marker.

To anyone, he would simply appear to be a bedraggled hunter, whose hunting buddies played a prank upon and abandoned in the woods during a hunt. Slightly dirty, but still a handsome guy. He had no doubts that he would be able to convince a lady to give him a ride, _not at all_.

She slowed, seeking external distraction over the music that was beginning to fail her; moving along at a far more acceptable pace as she threw attention outwards in search of anything vaguely of interest. Even a frolicking deer would have sufficed, surely a sight to behold, innocent creatures in their environment. But of course, she had no such luck and came across no cute little prancing deer but a man who leaned against a mile marker, looking as though he had seen better days, much better days. Confident that the man would try to flag her down to hitchhike, if he were truly a human and not some ghost haunting the road, she moved the handgun that rested on the passenger seat into her lap, checking if it were loaded before she stowed in under her leather jacket, hiding the bloody shirt under it by tugging it shut...or as shut as an unzipped jacket can get with an arm's maneuver.

Eyeing the male with weary eyes, she pulled to a stop by the roadside, calling out from the window that she drew down. "Need a ride? You're not going to find anyone on this road at this hour, dude. The nearest town is about a hundred mile out." Of course, with her current appearance, she might actually scare him away instead, looking a little abused with a scratch down her cheek and a darkening bruise on her forehead. Well, at least she was offering. Someone else accompanying her as she drove might help her keep awake.

He waited till she slowed to a stop before approaching, avoiding the need to yell. "A ride would be awesome, thanks, and a hundred miles?" Where the hell had he ended up? Wy-freakingnooneforhundredsofmiles-oming? Yet even as he spoke, emerald gaze took in her appearance, concern flickering in those eyes, though he was not able to inquire about the injuries she bore, not this early on anyway. "You don't mind that I have a gun along, do you? I can put it in the trunk if you're worried, I was out hunting and apparently some dumbasses thought it would be hilarious to just leave me out here."

She simply eyed him with an appreciative grin, chuckling at the reason that the man had given her, obviously finding it amusing. While it was not clear if she had seen past his act, the woman's guard did not slacken and she only gestured for him to hop in. "A gun huh? Is it loaded? Unload it if it is. A girl's gotta try and keep safe, ya know~" Any mention of weapons would get _anyone_ wary and she thought it fit to show a flicker of apprehension over her pale face, licking her lower lip as she did. Not to mention how she traveled alone. "Car trunk's too troublesome and messy, just toss it in the back. Unless you think that a bunch of lady's clothes isn't suitable for your gun to rest on, that is. I know how some guys take their guns to be wives."

Mischievously, she grinned at him and allowing him a peek in, to the display of open duffel bags of her clothing, some of which with rather...provocative attire sticking out, lingerie and more.

The fact Dean would fight for and, or protect and even die for a stranger, her included, without a second thought came through clearly - though without his knowledge and permission, when his gaze lightly flickered a faintly startled register at her response to the subject of the gun. He nodded, his normal baritone even lower seeming at the solemness of the situation, "I understand and I have already unloaded it." He could understand the wariness of a young woman, especially one clearly attractive, both facial features wise and figure. A full bosom, long slender legs, lean but sensually curved all wrapped up in leather, definitely _his type_.

 _Ah_.. She realized her response was a little too... _wise_. She had to take note of that. Nonetheless appearing as a weak defenseless girl might not work in her advantage this time, considering the bloody shirt that she hid. If her jacket were to slip and the man catch sight of it, it would only cause a disturbance she was not wholly sure that she would want to handle at the moment. Being wiser in the firearms sense made her seem guarded and could be an excuse for the blood. She could play an attacked woman desperately trying to gain safety.

She _was_ picking a random strange odd man up in the middle of no freaking where. It made sense to act cautious, and she kept that act up well, though a chuckle slipped her at his reaction when his eyes darted to the aforementioned back, picking up sight of some of the stray attire, an appreciative tug pulling at one corner of his lips. "I think it can survive the ride back there," amusement in his voice before looking back to the brunette and nodding an unspoken 'I'll be right back'.

"It's in a comfortable place, where most men wouldn't mind being in, I dare say you included. I think it's safe to say that you're not gay." She joked playfully, winking at the man as he turned to retrieve the weapon, watching him limp his way toward the tree where his shotgun was propped up. He eyed the duffel briefly before grabbing it in a last moment decision. Cradling his gun carefully, showing the tender care a person showed when dealing with things that were either the only thing they had or close to it, Dean then turned and limped back to the pulled over car.

He made sure to keep the gun low, barrel pointed to the ground and he gently put it on the back seat amid her clothing before tossing in his own duffel bag, gingerly getting in himself beside her after.

An injured man. She ought to be able to take him down if anything occurred, but one can never be too sure. A professional would be able to con others into believing that they were weak. When he returned, the woman offered him a smile and reclined into her seat, letting the vehicle go once he was settled.

"Hell no I'm not, that's for sure." As sure as the sun rose in the east and set in the west Dean liked his ladies. Dean was also easily picking up on the fact there was the scent of blood in the car, he had gone through both Hell and Purgatory not to mention all but four years of his life Hunting so he knew blood when he smelled it. The woman had either been bleeding recently or was currently still bleeding. "Thanks for giving me a ride, my name's Dean."

"Well that's nice to hear. Although you would think that assuring me that you're gay would help a little more in this situation." Chuckling and shaking her head, the woman picking up speed with ease, clearly used to long distance driving as she only rested one hand upon the wheel still. "That is, unless you're hoping to get lucky." Oh she teased, this lady did with dancing eyes and warm laughter.

"You look like crap, Dean. Your friends have gotta be jerks, or that you're one, for them to do this to you. I think I've got a chocolate bar somewhere behind, you can grope around and have it, might help you feel better. And you can call me Zizi."

"Zizi? That a family name?" He asked, voice friendly and warm, he wanted her to trust him, not kick him out of her car, arching an eyebrow with curiosity even though he knew it was a fake name. That was obvious and even an infant him would have known it to be a fake name, the woman was no 'Zizi'. It was clear that he was quite glad not to be alone and very clear that he had recently been through some sort of hell that would have forced him to be very much alone for a good long while. He really wanted to take a drink, memories rising, but he didn't want to take out his flask in front of her. A hundred miles.. How long could it take? He supposed it depended on how quickly she went.

"Jerks would be an understatement," he grunted with a tired sigh, "and m'fine, thanks though, not really able to eat right now."

"Nah. It's a nickname. My real name bothers me, so I just go by the nickname nowadays, it works well enough and I respond to it. It would be a funny family name though, Zizi." Poking fun at herself, she raised a brow at his sigh, and reached for the silver flask by her side and offering it to him. "Drink then? I promise it's not poisoned. You might even still find my lipstick mark upon the rim." It honestly was no poison, well, not to _humans_ anyway. Just a little bit of holy water in good old whiskey. Not enough for humans to taste the difference, but surely sufficient to give a demon a scald down their throat.

Only making sure. _Being cautious is what kept her alive._

Dean gave a soft chuckle, turning his head toward her and sending her one of his 'light up the room' smiles. "Well, I certainly wouldn't refuse if you threw yourself on me. My doctor though would probably kill me though." He shrugged slightly, looking back out the windshield. "It would be- 'Well, there was grandmammy Zizi, who was named after her Mama who was named after her Mama all the way back to the first Zizi who road through the wilds of Wyoming with sexy attire in her backseat.' I think it would make a good family history."

Oh, well, that was pretty cool. He considered the reasons behind a drink, there were only about three, and he did not much mind the thought of her drugging him for sex, or the thought that she had simply innocently offered it to him or the thought that she was trying to rule out possibilities. "Well, don't mind if I do, thank you again." He said with another smile, smaller and fainter, far more subdued than before but a grateful smile nonetheless as he took the offered bottle with a concealed laugh at the red lining the opening. Taking a couple sips from it, he sighed contentedly and screwing the top back on before handing it back to her.

"Perhaps when you're better then." She laughed, not ruling it out completely with her subtle wink and casual toy with her blood-speckled brown tresses. "Just don't die on me. I would hate to have to explain that to the authorities. They're a pain in the ass." While she had snorted at her previous statement, her impression towards said authorities clear, the woman's hearty laugh that she burst into almost had her steering the car into the next lane, though thankfully the road was empty safe for her Pontiac. "You're horribly funny, Dean. I do hope not for such a history! My poor family would hate me for it."

Dean flashed her a grin, "I wouldn't dream of dying on you," he said, and he sure as Hell meant that. Zizi definitely was curved in all the right places and after a year in Purgatory the feel of a woman's body was something he was sorely missing, that and the companionship it brought if only for a night...something to fill that space. He did not comment on the mention of family, partially because he could hardly be considered an expert on normal families.

She let him drink in silence, taking that chance to speed up once she noticed that no reaction was to be noted. Well, at least now she knew that he was no demon, nor a person possessed by a spirit. So much safer she felt, that she relaxed visibly into the leather seats. "Do you want to take a nap till we reach the town? I'll wake your cute little butt when we get there." The plan was originally for him to entertain her...but he did look a wreck. The poor man looked like he was about to pass out and she did not think it nice to burn his energy away.

"Nah, I can stay awake. You moving to this area or just traveling?" Dean asked curiously, she did have bags full of stuff after all. Kinda _screamed_ traveling. Or a girl who ran away from home. He inspected her features further, trying to guess the woman's age. She seemed old enough to not be jail bait, but one could not be too sure these days.

"Baby, I could make you feel like you're in Heaven~" She teased, clearly a veteran at this manner of behaviour. Her chuckle was light and soft in amusement, and simply to 'play' with him a little more, digits stroked his thigh; the one nearest to her, in an almost soft and sensual manner...before she returned her hands back onto the steering wheel.

Oh God he hoped she made him feel better than that. Heaven sucked ass, granted not as much as Hell or Purgatory but still, hell, Avalon probably had sucked the least and there he was poked, prodded and...well, needless to say he was not too fond of faeries. Goddamned bastards...so, scratch that, they _all_ sucked.

"Sure you can keep awake? Great then~ I won't have to drive the next sixty miles or so in boring silence." Such was a relief, she did not have to worry about falling asleep in the middle of the road and crashing...and winding up killing both of them. What a morbid thought considering how she had narrowly escaped not more than an hour ago. "Just travelling. I wander around a lot, I guess...there's no place which I really wish to settle down in yet.."

"Heaven huh, what was that about me not dying on you again?" He asked with a quirk of his brow and widening grin, "and sure I can keep awake, s'not that hard." He had dealt with driving alone for ten hours while sick, dealing with blood loss and emotionally broken just to get to a place he felt safe, staying awake while in a car was nothing to him since he had little need to focus on the road. "Nothing wrong with just traveling, I spent most of my life wandering from place to place. Any type of place you're looking for or is it just a you'll know when you get there sort of thing?"

"Whoever said you have to die to be in Heaven, hm? I bet you would feel great in you were in the position of your shotgun, and if all those back there," she gestured with a flirty smile, "Were ladies dressed in, well, those." Whatever it is, the image that might come to mind was certainly not something that a typical decent young lady would say, but she could hardly be deemed as that, not with the manner she carried herself, nor her attire. No decent women would be caught dead picking up straight men on the streets while dressed in arguably provocative clothing."But I'll have to say, I prefer to be alone...or with just _one_ person."

She directed her gaze away from him, though she still kept her eyes on the road, tension in her features as though she had spoken of something she would typically not. "You better keep awake, hotstuff. Especially when I'm here, else I'll make sure you never get to sleep again~" So much of a playful tease she seemed to be. But what would happen when the truth was revealed? Was it even her true self, or a deceptive lure to trick the man into her claws?

"Nope, Dean. I don't think I can ever find a place where I can feel like I belong. You?"

"Ahh, I don't know, I kinda prefer leather and one person as well," replied Dean with a twinkle in his eyes, light crows feet crinkling slightly as he gave an honest smile. "But really sweetheart, you're tempting me to fall asleep now just to take you up on your threat." Then he grew quiet in thought, eyes drifting into a thousand yard stare before he snapped out of it, giving a gentle, sorrowful chuckle, "Me? I don't belong anywhere, never did and never will, both Heaven and Hell made sure of that."

"Sounds like you and me are a perfect fit~" Her smile, though faint, was sincere; since she found it rare to even communicate much with a person, not to mention agree with him. "Maybe you should sleep so that you have the energy for us to play later~" The other topic though, brought about a frown to her full lips and she slowed the vehicle for a bit, turning her gaze towards the man. "Maybe it's not _where_ you're supposed to belong, but **someone**. At least, that's what I think...for myself anyway. Don't you think it'd be nice? For someone to accept you for the way you are, Dean?"

"Don't know, you seem almost eager to get me asleep there sweetheart, I'm getting a little worried." He didn't look _that_ bad did he? Alright, so maybe most people would think he did but he did not think so. At least he did not feel as bad as he assumed he looked. A slightly surprised but resigned expression passed through his eyes when the car slowed for a bit, as if he was expecting to be kicked out of the car or something though he really was not sure why he would be. Unless she liked to one way flirt or whatever..or he had unknowingly and silently pissed her off, scared her or any other number of things.

Her next words after slowing the car caused him to blink in surprise though, clearly thrown at having been asked about his personal feelings, she almost seemed to care a little or something. Maybe it was a chick thing. "Yeah," he replied softly, glancing at her briefly before his gaze shifting to out the windshield, "been trying to get that since I was four...thing is, as nice as it would be- and God I want it, I do... I don't think it's possible, not anymore." It was easier to confess to a stranger he had little chance of ever meeting again past a possible one night stand. Or that spell did more than just throwing him into a different state.

"You limped, you look like you went flying and crashing through the woods without a parachute, and you look like you're about to fall asleep." She recited, based on what she had gotten from his physical appearance. "Maybe you don't feel like crap, but you do kinda look like crap, no offense there, handsome. Maybe you think that's alright, but I'm not a sadist. I don't wanna play with someone who looks like he'd die if the action gets a little more... _exhilarating_."

Though playful, the woman's smile hinted at truth and the hand that rested on his thigh once again, did not leave. Reassuringly, despite the broken eye contact; so that she could watch the road and not kill them both; she gave the gas pedal a little more pressure, wanting them off the road. "Not anymore? You only don't get it if you stop looking, Dean. I know some people say that if it's meant to be, it's meant to be. But if you don't even try, how are you going to get it?"

Words she ought to be redirecting back towards herself, yet words the brunette did not wish to think about in her own context. "You're a hot guy, I'm sure you'd have your white picket fence dream some day. But hey, if you don't, you can always come to me~"

Dean opened his mouth slightly, lips parting as if to protest the laundry list before he shut them, looking rather uncertain. She was more observant than he thought, and he was not sure what to make of it. Was she a threat? Was he prey? "Yeah but you look like you're about to fall asleep yourself, sweetheart and I don't think a car crash would help how I looked~" He finally said before adding quietly, "At least I haven't lost any blood."

His gaze did not move to the hand she had on his thigh but his left hand did, covering her smaller hand with his own rough, calloused but oddly gentle one. "I didn't stop looking, don't get me wrong, I had it actually for a while, the white picket fence, apple pie life. It... did not work out," he'd gotten a 'go do your thing and come while you can, it'll be okay' and then that had turned into a 'you can't expect us to wait forever for you' kind of deal even though he _had_ been going to see them when he could and calling at times when he couldn't. "What if you have found your own white picket fence by the time I look for you?"

"Don't worry, hun. I can handle it, I have my music, I can still stay awake. And no, I don't want your rugged good looks to be damaged by a car crash. I don't fancy having bed fun with a smashed in face...blood? Oh..." She bit her lips at the mention of blood, nervously wondering if the man had realized her bloody shirt...and then a glimpse in the rear view mirror hinted to her the blood he might be referring to would be her face. Well. That would be hard to explain...

Yet she smiled at the hand upon hers, the warmth welcomed; since she hardly interacted wholeheartedly with people per se. "It didn't work out? Well, I guess you have to keep looking for the right one.." Oh she knew how that felt, _she tried it_. It was really a **not** pleasant situation. "Well then you better grab me before the stock runs out, Dean~ There's only one and one alone. Better make it fast while I'm available~"

"Have any Metallica?" Dean asked, perking up somewhat at the mention of music and even though he probably would end up dozing off into a small nap because he was feeling bit tired, it would still be pretty awesome to have good old James Hetfield singing in the background. "Yeah, the blood on your face and also the blood on your shirt that you've been trying to hide ever since you pulled over." Dean stated, just as thought it were an every day occurrence to drive around bleeding and not something most people would think of calling the cops about at upon first glance.

His hand on hers, however, did not move, resting both heavily and lightly, giving gentle pressure and warmth but giving her the neccessary lightness to pull her hand out easily if she wanted to. Companionship, comfort, protection... it offered them one at a time or all at once depending on how the person needed or wanted it. White picket fences are overrated," off-handedly, skirting around other question before replying to that last bit. "Oh I intend to~" After he made a call to Sam, he had time before his Impala rolled up to pick him up; time aplenty to spend with her. Hopefully flirting continued to more.

"I'm pretty sure I do!" She grinned, gesturing towards the player. She did not wish to wiggle her hand from her current position under his, and the other was needed to steer the vehicle, so Dean shall have to pick out the right disc for the music player, a disc holder in clear view. "...It's not mine, the shirt at least." Muttered, she glanced away from the man and anything in general. "You're not scared, you carry a shot gun. Is it usually loaded with rock salt?" The question would be odd to just about _anyone_ , and they would surely give her a queer look, but to any hunter, they would get the link. It would explain a whole lot of things in fact, almost everything. Hunters traveled when they had to, day or night mattered little, and they were often littered with injuries. Such came with the profession. She wanted confirmation right now, before anything else occurred.

"Hey. I want my white picket fences." She grunted in displeasure, though she did not shift her hand away. "You can claim me, Mister Dean. But if you ain't right, you ain't right. But we never know till we try, no? Does your body fit mine? Can I trust you? So many things to be sure about for a white picket fence. If you're coming to me when we're fifty, don't expect me to still be alone~ I'm hot and I know it, pretty sure I'll be snatched up...soon~"

"I just said they were overrated, not that they weren't nice to have," protested Dean with a raised brow and light amused smirk. Then he snorted softly, amusement still evident though, "S'not like I'm gonna live to be fifty so I don't think I'll have to think that far ahead."

This Zizi chick just kept getting better and better~ With his free hand he poked through the CDs until a broad grin touched his lips and he slid out Ride the Lightening. Making sure to remove the CD that had been occupying the player, he popped it in before replying to the rock salt question with a low, knowing chuckle. "Yeah, rock salt or consecrated iron, the silver I typically keep in my Colt."

"Well then, hunter. Looks like we're not so different after all. You weren't out in the woods for no reason, aren't you? Digging up a grave or hunting a spirit?" _Now_ , she could be more relaxed. There was little need to pretend and conceal so much, hunters understood. An appreciative grin at the choice of music, the female finally pulls her hand away from his to tug the wig off her head, letting her ebony tresses tumble down as they are released, ruffling her hair with a yawn after tossing wig backwards. "No? Not so far ahead, then something like... _tonight_?" Snickering softly with a teasing smile, she crept her hand - fingers dancing down his arm. "At least we each know the dangers of our lives."

"Nope, it was a goddamn Witch up in North Dakota. I was with my lil brother, Sam, and whatever the hell she did I ended up here with nothing but my gun and what I had on me and a broken cell phone. M'brother's probably going nuts wondering where I am, I think she meant to kill me but didn't get the chance to finish before he blasted her."

Dean eyed the real color of her hair, allowing laughter to fly free, "Your name's not really Zizi is it? Tonight definitely works for me, I prefer living for the day anyway. Carpe Diem and all that shit." He shivered slightly at the feel of her fingers dancing down his arm, God, it had been over a year since he'd last felt the touch of a woman - an actual _human_ woman, and it seemed even longer than that. The gentle warmth of her fingers incited something within.

"Oh boy. I hate witches. The new age kind or the old ones? The old ones suck. Some of them have terrible tempers and are particularly arrogant." She huffed and puffed, complaining to the man. It was rare that she had a chance to actually rant to someone, without them thinking that she was crazy and trying to put her in a mental institution. Rare, considering how she preferred to work solo, away from people, away from attachments, away from judgmental fools.

"Uh... Well, my real name is Xena." She frowned, gnawing at lower lip subconsciously. "But you know, Zizi works. Repeating the first part and all that. Is Dean your real name?" Wrinkling her nose, she makes a turn before she continued, squirting her eyes as the town came in sight. It was still a good distance away, but at least it was somewhat in view " _After_ we both take a bath. I don't fancy having fun with vampire blood all over my shirt. Plus, you should call your brother and let him know where on earth we are once we're in town."

"Fucking old one, had the creepy cave set up and everything. They also have that nasty thing of keeping bodily fluids around, seriously, I don't understand the draw... It's just nasty no matter how you look at it." Ah yes, it was nice to be able to rant with a fellow hunter, sure he had his brother but Sammy had already heard it all and so did not give much more than a grunt and a 'I _know_ Dean' to whatever rant Dean would began upon. Or how Sam forgot his pie for the umpteenth time.

"That's awesome, like the warrior princess, fits." Dean said with a grin, "And yeah, Dean's my real name, Dean Winchester, my brother's real name is Sam as well." She might know of his brother, Soulless Sam had certainly made his name well known to the hunting community. It was not a great reputation, on second thought.

"...That sounds like it blows chunks. And yeah, never understood the whole gut juice and yucks that they love to keep." She wrinkled her nose, shuddering at the idea of such a thing. She had the ability to take them down, hunt them, that was for certain, but she took no enjoyment in such. It was just...disturbing and often filled with painful and gross encounters. Spitting needles, eating worms; the works.

Xena the Warrior Princess... _if only he knew_. She made no comments on that.

"Dean Winchester huh? And Sam Winchester? I'm pretty sure I've heard of them before. _OH!_ I remember! The dumbasses who opened the Devil's Gate, the too tall demon blood-drinking brother, the sexy booze-loving sex on legs, the one with angel friend. Castiel wasn't it? There was so much on you guys on Hunters network!" There was more than she knew even, through books that she suspected detailed their lifes - though there had been no clear confirmation. Perhaps she would ask later. A curious mind always thirsted for accuracy.

Hastily he averted his eyes and clenched a fist tightly, nearly drawing blood with the sheer force. "Yeah," he rasped, "Those dumbasses.." and he was the worst one of the two, went to Hell, broke like a fucking pansy and started the fucking apocalypse.

"Hey, relax. Shit happens. I'm not blaming you for it. Let them talk, no point in listening to their crap." She muttered, slowing down the vehicle whilst she noted the change in the man's behaviour. Worried, she reached out to grab his tensed fist, pulling it over and resting it on her lap. "We all regret things from our past, but the way to get over it is to move on with life and not make the same mistake again.."

Dean snorted softly, "S'not like we opened the Devil's Gate in the first place, it was that fucker Jake. Figures everyone got it wrong." Just another thing to make the Winchester's lives all nice and happy, a bunch of hunters who thought they were the ones who had opened the Gate. He had originally believed that she would go there, bring up the apocalypse, once he had realized she had no intention to do so, he relaxed.

"Well, I guess no one ever heard your explanation. Did you guys even bother to explain it to anyone?" Shaking her head with a chuckle, Xena resumed the high speed drive now that Dean was calm, finding the man a tad mysterious...and mostly amusing. She knew enough from the books, his behaviour seemed to confirm certain theories. Dean Winchester, _softie_ on the inside. "Would have saved you guys the 'trauma', since that's the story that everyone spreads. No one even knows who this 'Jake' is, ya know."

"We were too busy trying to stay alive and hunting down the queen demon bitch to really think on that, Bobby and Ellen knew so I guess we just expected them to pass the word along in case anyone brought it up or something." In addition, there had been the whole, 'one year til Dean goes to Hell' thing to worry about. Pinpointing the opening of the Devil's Gate meant little to the brothers when they were attempting to figure a way around the trip to Hell.

"Jake was a human who got messed up by Azazel, major demon, and yeah.. Didn't end well for him."

"Ehh... Well, that's just too bad for you boys. Doesn't matter really, does it? Your reputation isn't what that makes you. Though I do hope the part about you being good in bed is true." She trailed off, the last statement she mumbled mostly to herself absentmindedly, too used to her solitude in the vehicle where she could speak to herself...without fearing about other people.

"Nah, that one's a flat out lie," Dean laughed with a smirk in her direction, "I'm not good in bed, I'm _amazing_ in it." Oh yeah, and despite what he currently had to deal with in terms of what he had just been through and wounds, he knew he would have absolutely no problem in bed. He never did.

She had the decency to blush, oh so lightly, though Xena made no attempt to be shy and deny her words. "Dude. Don't give me false hopes. If you can't deliver, I'm gonna gank you." She rolled her eyes with a chortle as she handled the wheel, humming softly to the currently playing track.

His gaze eventually drifted out a window, taking in the town and soon muttered, "Lucky's Inn apparently has vacancies... " He was not quite sure what kind of motels she stayed in, if she minded the fairly ratty ones but a vacancy was a vacancy in his opinion at least. Beggars could not be choosers and hunters did not exactly have a stable income. Different hunters gathered funds in different manners, with the clothes he glimpsed that were lying freely in the back, the way she interacted with him... Strippers made good money. He knew, he tipped them well.

"Then that's where we're going~" She barely cared what sort of inn it was. If it had a bed and a shower, then that was just fine. Thus it was towards said inn that she drove towards, pulling into the parking lot smoothly and killing the engine. "You wanna wait in here while I get us a room?" Xena straightened up with a small stretch, making sure the leather jacket was completely zipped shut before she slipped out of the vehicle. Slender legs arched behind her back, eyeing the man as she leaned onto the car's body with one arm. "Maybe think up some fun times for us~ I don't appreciate being choked or bled, but everything else should be _juuusssttt_ fine~ If you need to call your brother, I have a spare phone in the glove compartment. You could put your card in there and call him."

Dude, if he couldn't deliver Dean would gank _himself._ Dean only gave a broad confident smirk that showed he had absolutely no fear of being ganked that night or any other time for such a reason ever. "Sounds good," Dean said with a cheery grin as he looked out at her from the car, already moving to grab the aforementioned phone. "I'm sure I can think up plenty of fun times."

"Okay then, hot stuff. And oh, no blindfolds either. I'd like to see that face of yours." Winking at Dean, she made a show of sashaying towards the reception of the inn, thumbs stuck into the band of leather skirt. Dean, on the other hand, allowed eyes to linger upon swaying bottom, taking in the sights as digits worked the broken phone, swapping the card over and dialing for his brother. If Sammy needed him, there would be no time to have fun tonight. He would have to find a way back to North Dakota as quickly as possible. For that he hoped Sam had accomplished their mission.

"Dean! Where the hell are you? Are you alright?!"

"Yeah, I'm good. Damn witch blasted me to freaking Wyoming. Did you get her?"

"I did. Where in Wyoming are you? Send me your coordinates, I'll come get you."

"Not tonight. There's this chick..."

"...seriously?"

"Oh yeah, she's smoking hot; long legs, leather." He chuckled, leaning back to hook a black thong between fingers. "I'll send you coordinates later. She was all over me, I didn't even have to do anything, and I'm making the best of this damn night. Don't scratch my baby."

Xena had picked up an interesting fun man tonight, even though she really was not intending to do anything...or _anyone_ for that matter. The remnants of the night was altering a good bath and time in bed into a possible fun situation. Plans change, but it was for the better, she convinced herself. Hunters knew that life and death circumstances occurred all the time, attachment was not a thing. Besides, with what she had read about Dean Winchester...it would be nothing but sex. Just a night of hot and heavy interactions; and they would be no more than strangers. Simply hunters with a common goal, to eradicate evil from the world. They would only share a bed for the night, and perhaps information in the future.

 **It was just a one night stand.**

 _"Upon my shoulders I carry, a burden unseen to many. The life of a hunter is ever and forever more, a life of solitary and loneliness. When will we ever live our life for our own? The answer is simple. Never." - Xena_


End file.
